Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 5 - Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Bartholomeus Baal’s Proposition

On the morning of his second day at the estate, Glenn woke up early and full of energy, then dressed himself and went out into the yard. Ever since receiving this escort mission, he had been waking up early almost every day—something he wasn’t used to—to practice his magecraft.

First, he used flight magecraft to lift himself off the ground just slightly. Then, maintaining this, he chanted another spell to produce a flame at his fingertip. The latter spell was extremely simple, its power restrained—but as soon as he had to maintain both spells at once, it became much harder.

In terms of difficulty, it felt kind of like juggling while walking a tightrope. Focus on the tightrope too much and the balls would fall, focus on the balls too much and he would fall.

While Glenn had never seen it personally, he’d heard one former Sage was a prodigy who could maintain seven spells at the same time. A feat that impressive seemed positively superhuman to him.

“Whoa… Hup… Ack, ack…!”

As the tiny flame flickered to life above his finger, his floating body wavered. Ultimately, he didn’t even last three seconds before falling to the ground, landing on his rear.

“Ugh. That smarts. Two at once is so hard…,” he muttered to himself.

But if he could learn to do it, he’d be able to use flight magecraft to evade incoming attacks while fighting back. According to his master, this was a better use of his time than trying to learn a wider variety of spells.

Mastering a bunch of new spells one after the other would be a lot cooler and more impressive, though…

Glenn had learned about other kinds of magecraft—those outside his area of expertise—during his classes at Serendia. If he put his mind to it, he should be able to manage them. Briefly, he wondered if he should just switch his training routine to learning new spells. Then he caught himself and smacked his cheeks.

“Can’t get distracted. Gotta keep plugging away…”

He’d made an oath to do his best before the Alteria chimes and an upperclassman he respected. He couldn’t take the easy way out—that would just be running away. He could hear that very same upperclassman in his mind angrily shouting “Finish what you started!” and turning the air around him frosty.

Yeah. Okay, one more time…

After chanting his flight spell and lifting himself up again, he noticed something. A short distance away, someone was watching him. It was a petite girl wearing a hooded robe and a veil over her mouth—the Silent Witch.

Oh no! It’s the monster who beat my master to a pulp!

Glenn disengaged his flight spell and stood there for a few moments. Eventually, the Silent Witch, clutching her staff to her chest, scampered over to him.

Now what? Why’s she coming this way?! Is she gonna yell at me?! Did I do something?! What if she sends me flying just because she doesn’t like me?!

The Silent Witch stopped, then looked up at Glenn from beneath her hood. According to his master, she was a cruel, merciless witch who hated people.

Whatever the case, he had to say something to her. Greetings were important in situations like these. Wasn’t that what the vice president was always telling him? Yes, Serendia students must always remember to be courteous and respectful.

Grimacing, Glenn cried out, “G-g’mornin’!” His voice cracked a little.

Ack! How embarrassing! he thought as the Silent Witch used her long staff to write something in the dirt at their feet. At first, he was terrified she was announcing that she was going to beat the life out of him. But the words that appeared were much less hostile.

“Practicing simultaneous maintenance?”

Glenn, who had been mentally bracing himself, breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s right!” he said. “I still can’t even manage two at once…”

The Silent Witch wrote more words on the ground. “Try maintaining two fire spells at once.”

“…Huh?”

Glenn stared hard at her. She used one small hand to pull down the edge of her hood and wrote some more.

“It’s easier to maintain more than one if the spells are the same. Once you get used to that, then you can practice it with a different one, like flight magecraft.”

Not sure whether to believe her, Glenn chanted the spell and produced a small flame over his right index finger. Then, keeping it burning, he chanted the same spell again. This time, a flame lit up over his left index finger.

“Hup, okay… Whoa, whoa, whoa…”

Glenn looked at each hand in turn.

If, instead of using a single spell to shoot ten fire arrows, one used two spells simultaneously that each shot five, the precision of the arrows would increase, but so would the difficulty. Glenn’s two fireball spells followed more or less the same principle.

The flames were unstable, as if they might flicker out at any moment. But somehow, he managed to maintain them both for twenty whole seconds.

“Hey, you’re right! I think it worked!” he said.

While he was still a long way from his ultimate goal—using flight magecraft and fire magecraft at the same time—he felt like he now had something of a grasp on what it felt like to maintain two spells at once.

“When maintaining multiple spells simultaneously, it’s important to get down the feel. Keep practicing until you’re used to it.”

Once she was done writing, the Silent Witch bowed slightly and turned around.

She was nice. Really nice. I guess my master lied again, Glenn thought with resignation. He was probably just bad-mouthing her because she’d beaten the crap out of him, and he still held a grudge.

“Miss Silent Witch!” he called out after her, waving enthusiastically. “Thanks so much!”

After turning her back to Glenn, Monica held a hand to her chest, trying to calm her beating heart as she hastened away.

I, um, hope I didn’t go too far…

She was trying to keep her identity hidden; it was best to keep contact with everyone to a minimum. Louis had probably fed Glenn a bunch of scary lies for that very reason.

Nevertheless, she wanted to support Glenn in his efforts. He was her friend, and he was trying so hard. This was her field of expertise, too, so she was especially keen to help.

Once Monica had walked far enough that she could no longer see Glenn, she decided to tour the vast garden. But she wasn’t walking around this early in the morning just to take a stroll. She was patrolling. Today was the day the envoy from the Kingdom of Farfolia was set to arrive. She wanted to make sure there was nothing strange or suspicious around the estate.

The duke’s mansion had a very large yard with many places to hide. But even setting that aside, the building was situated between a forest and an orchard. If an intruder fled into the trees, they’d be pretty difficult to follow.

It seems like they have a lot of hunting dogs skilled at tracking… Maybe I should think of some countermeasures in case something like that happens, she thought as she reached a corner of the building.

From around the corner, she could hear barking—the estate’s hunting dogs. And in between barks, she could hear people talking.

She paused, then peeked around the corner. There were two men with the dogs, taking care of them. One was a middle-aged butler with combed-back blond hair speckled with white, and the other was an elderly servant in his sixties with a mustache and gray hair.

The dogs seemed to love the butler, but they weren’t very attached to the servant. They were barking at him, and he seemed a bit shaken up.

Troubled, the butler said, “The dogs never seem to enjoy your company, Peter. Were you in contact with any other animals?”

“Not that I can think of, sir…,” replied Peter, frowning. “It’s always been this way. Animals just seem to hate me.”

Something dawned on the butler then, and he said, “Come to think of it, it’s the same with Lord Alexander—you know, the Silent Witch’s attendant. The dogs simply can’t stay calm when he’s nearby.”

Monica quietly sucked in her breath. My attendant… They’re talking about Nero, right?

The butler frowned fussily. “What am I to do?” he complained. “The plan was to invite the Farfolian delegation along on a hunt to facilitate good relations. But we can’t do that if the hunting dogs are scared.”

“You’re right, sir.”

“Lady Eliane will likely come along on the hunt as well, and I can’t do anything that might trouble her…”

Monica had an idea about why the dogs might hate Nero, but it wasn’t something she could divulge. Maybe I should tell him to stay away from the animals…

Meaning to leave, Monica quietly stepped back a few paces, then turned around. But right as she was about to run off, she smacked into something and fell backward onto the ground.

“Oof!”

“Whoops! Real sorry about that, my lady.”

Someone had evidently been standing behind her. Still sitting on the ground, she rubbed her nose through her veil and looked up at the person.

It was a tall man with combed-back black hair. He looked to be in his midtwenties or so, and he wore the estate’s uniform for male servants.

She’d met this man before—somewhere other than the estate.

This person, he’s…

The last time she saw him, he’d had a bandanna and work clothes on, and he gave off a very different impression now. But Monica had memorized all the numbers that made up his facial structure, so she was sure. This was the man she’d met in Corlapton about two months ago—Bartholomeus.

Bartholomeus had been suspected of stealing an ancient magical item called Starweaving Mira, and Ryn had supposedly handed him over to the Starseer Witch. But Monica didn’t know what had happened to him after that.

What…? Why is he here?!

She couldn’t spend too much time with him. He might blow her cover.

“Out for a walk so early in the morning?” he asked. “I can show you around the gardens if you want!”

Monica shook her head, trying as hard as she could to convey the message “no thank you.”

Bartholomeus, not to be dissuaded, smiled and took a step to block her from leaving. “Hey, no need to be shy! If I neglected an honored guest like you, Leston would never let me hear the end of it! Come, come! This way!”

He’d already started walking, taking the lead. Monica didn’t know what to do. Would it be weird to turn him down…? I was planning on looking around the garden anyway…

Without much of a choice, she let him get a few more steps away, then began following him.

As they walked, Bartholomeus made light conversation, pointing out one tree that birds liked to perch in and another planted the year the young lady was born—things like that.

Monica listened idly as they made their way to the back of the estate. This was a particularly remote part of the vast property. It would be best to carefully check potential hiding spots and look for anything suspicious.

As she glanced around, observing, someone suddenly grabbed her by the wrist. It was Bartholomeus.

From point-blank range, he looked down at her and grinned. “Ha-ha! Caught you, you little faker.”

“…?!”

Why had he grabbed her? Why was he calling her a fake? Monica was confused; she didn’t understand what was happening. It was so sudden, she didn’t even think to use unchanted magecraft.

Bartholomeus brought his hand to her veil. “Time to see who you really are!” Then he roughly pulled the cloth from her mouth.

Monica whimpered just as Bartholomeus paused and let out an awkward “Huh?”

“Why do I feel like I’ve seen you before…?” he muttered. “Oh, that’s it. The festival. You were that little mage with the squirrel hood.” He peered carefully at her face, then frowned, confused. “What’re you doing pretending to be the Silent Witch?”

“P-pretending?!” He’d suddenly grabbed her wrist, removed her veil, and now he was calling her a fake? Monica was just about at her limit. She didn’t know what was going on anymore. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Looking mildly shocked, Bartholomeus released her wrist. “Hey, wait. Don’t cry. Don’t cry! I know I’m the one who upset you, but— Hraaaagh?!”

His rapid stream of excuses abruptly transformed into an unseemly shriek.

Nero, in human form, had dropped right onto Bartholomeus’s head. He must have jumped out of a second-story window.

Without sparing a glance at the man he’d just crushed under his feet, Nero turned to Monica. “Heya, Monica. If you were going for a walk, you should’ve taken me along.”

“You said it was too cold and you didn’t want to get out of bed!” she shot back, teary-eyed.

Nero folded his arms behind his head and pursed his lips. “And can ya blame me? I really hate the cold… Also, who’s this guy?” he asked, glancing down at Bartholomeus.

The man, in turn, looked up at Monica. “Who…? Who are you, kid?”

“I, um, I’m the Silent Witch… I—I promiph…,” she said, faltering.

“Now, it’s not good to lie. I know the truth, after all.”

The truth about what? wondered Monica and Nero.

Bartholomeus continued, his words firm and clear. “The real Silent Witch is the beautiful, blond-haired maid who saved me in Corlapton! I saw everything, you know. I saw her control the wind without chanting!”

Monica and Nero exchanged glances. Nero had stayed behind in the dorm the night Monica had been in Corlapton, but when they heard Bartholomeus describe a beautiful, blond-haired maid who controlled the wind, they both thought of the same person—or rather, the same spirit.

Nero’s golden eyes swept over the scene, then returned to Monica. “I, the greatest detective alive, know exactly what’s happened here.”

“…Yeah, me too.”

You didn’t have to be a detective to figure it out. The maid Bartholomeus was going on about was the Barrier Mage Louis Miller’s contracted spirit, Rynzbelfeid. She had indeed manipulated the wind without chanting when she’d leaped through the air with Bartholomeus in her arms. He must have mistaken her power for unchanted magecraft, for which a certain witch was famous.

“Ummm, the woman you saw is named Ryn,” explained Monica, squatting down to speak to him. “And she’s not a human; she’s a spirit.”

“What?” Still at Nero’s feet, Bartholomeus didn’t seem to believe what Monica was saying.

Rather than try to persuade him with words, she decided it would be faster to prove she was the real deal. So, without chanting, she produced a small bubble of water at her fingertip, then caused it to morph into a butterfly and flutter off through the air. At last, it landed on the man’s nose and popped.

Bartholomeus was baffled. Monica stiffened and said firmly, “I… I am one of the Seven Sages… Monica Everett, the Silent Wiffh.”

But she put so much energy into sounding genuine that she choked at the end and embarrassed herself.

As she looked down, inwardly disappointed, Nero jumped off Bartholomeus and threw his head back proudly. “And I am the Silent Witch’s incredibly cool, super-awesome attendant, Bartholomew Alexander! And that’s sir to you!”

Monica was skeptical that the situation had called for an introduction from Nero. Most likely, he was just jumping on any opportunity to sing his own praises.

Bartholomeus remained on the ground and stared fixedly at the petite girl as she looked back down at him.

It had taken him a moment after he’d removed her veil to remember who she was. She was just that unremarkable—the kind of girl you could find anywhere.

But this little kid, all skin and bones, professed to be the real Silent Witch, in the flesh—Monica Everett. And then she’d shown him her unchanted magecraft.

And the blond beauty who stole my heart is a spirit named Ryn! Wah-ha! Even your name is adorable, Rynny…!

Bartholomeus’s head spun as he tried to figure out how to meet his beloved “Rynny.” He was sure this kid in front of him would be key. Could he win her over and convince her to introduce him to the lady of his dreams?

He stood up slowly, then moved toward Monica, who had taken out a spare veil and put it on. She jumped in fright as he approached, then scurried behind her attendant.

She reminded him of a squirrel, but he stopped himself from saying so and asked in a coaxing voice, “Hey, kid. Want to make a deal with me?”

“A… A deal…?” Monica peered at him from behind her attendant.

The look on Bartholomeus’s face was all business. “I want you to introduce me to Rynny.”

“Huh? Ryn? B-but why…?”

“Well, because I’m in love with her. Y’know, love! I’m head over heels.”

Monica’s eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open. “Ummm… Well, Ryn is a spirit, so…”

“Such things mean nothing in the face of love!” he declared.

“Whuh…?” Monica looked very confused.

One more push, Bartholomeus thought, the corners of his thick lips lifting into a smile. “If you introduce me to her… I’ll keep your secret safe.”

“My, um, my secret…?”

“The guy you were looking for during the Bell-Ringing Festival,” he explained. “The one dressed up as the underworld watchman. That was Prince Felix. Am I right?”

“?!” Monica’s eyes went wide again.

I knew it, he thought, grinning. “If you set me up with Ryn, I promise to keep quiet about your relationship with the prince.”

The prince and this kid are together, and it’s a big secret. They’re lovers who can’t tell a soul. That’s why they got dressed up to meet at the festival, and why she’s here with the prince under the pretense of guarding him. And it explains their little rendezvous last night. Bartholomeus was sure of it.

Ignorant of the man’s misunderstanding, Monica paled behind her veil.

Wha…? Oh no, oh no! What do I do? Our secret relationship! He means my mission to protect him, right?! How I’m the prince’s secret bodyguard?! He knows everything!

As she panicked, trying to figure out the right move, Nero poked her.

“Hey, Monica. You know what situations like this call for, right?”

“What?” If Nero had a plan to solve everything, she wanted to know. She stared at him expectantly.

“We gotta shut him up,” Nero said confidently. “For good.”

“Noooo! Wait, hold on…”

Utterly confused, Monica racked her brain. For whatever reason, Bartholomeus knew that Monica was hiding her identity and protecting Felix. And if she didn’t want him telling the whole world, she had to introduce him to Ryn.

But I didn’t think spirits had a gender, she thought, now covered in sweat as she continued to think.

Bartholomeus gave her the look of an understanding adult. “Now, now. It’s nothing to panic over. Just play matchmaker for me and Ryn and I’ll help you be with the prince as much as I can.”

He’d help her be with the prince—he meant he’d help her with her mission.

But the undercover mission was top secret. If Louis realized that someone had found her out… She was too terrified to think of the consequences. This was completely different from Ray, who was another Sage.

“Ummm, this…,” she began. “It’s really, really important to keep it secret… You, you can’t tell anyone about it, not a soul…”

“Yeah, I get it. These things have to stay under wraps.” He nodded, looking completely confident, and even winked at her. “I won’t tell anyone, and you don’t have to tell anyone else about me. I’ll be your ally in secret. Sound good?”

Monica groaned, but Nero seemed receptive. “So you want to be Monica’s errand boy, huh? Very good! You can be my henchman.”

“Heh-heh-heh! See? This guy agrees with me, so… Nice to be working with you, kid!”

How is Nero so adaptable?

Monica, unable to accept the proposition right away, stammered out a few buts before Bartholomeus took her hand, his eyes glinting oppressively.

“Please! I’m serious about this! I really am head over heels!” he repeated passionately.

Just at that moment, Monica heard footsteps coming from behind her. It was the sound of someone launching into a run.

She turned around and saw Felix rushing over.

Noooo… P-Pr-Pr-Prince…! Monica’s stomach contracted painfully.

Felix grabbed the arm Bartholomeus was using to hold Monica’s hand, then peeled him off her.

“…Hands off the lady,” he said.

His eyes were as cold as a lake in winter. But when he turned to Monica, he broke into a warm smile, like springtime sunlight.

“It’s almost time for breakfast, my lady,” he said. “Why don’t we go together?” He took Monica’s hand as if escorting a noblewoman and began to walk away. Nervously, she followed him; as did Nero, looking very entertained.

Once they’d rounded a corner in the gardens and Bartholomeus was out of sight, Felix turned to Monica with a serious look in his eyes.

“It would seem you’ve run into a troublesome servant. If he has offended you in any way, I’ll tell the duke not to let him near you.”

Monica shook her head. If the duke got rid of Bartholomeus, he might spill the beans about her secret mission to protect the prince. That was the one thing she needed to avoid at any cost.

She grabbed hold of Nero’s robe, pulled him down into a crouch, and whispered in his ear. “Tell him…not to worry about Mister Bartholomeus!”

Nero nodded, then turned to Felix and boldly proclaimed, “That man is now my henchman. No need to worry about him.”

I didn’t mean like thaaat! Monica silently wailed.

Felix narrowed his eyes slightly and searched Nero’s face. His own smile never faltered, but it took on an intimidating cast. “…I see. In that case, please discipline your new henchman so he stops being rude to Lady Everett.”

Clutching her stomach, Monica desperately fought back the urge to cry. This had turned into a huge mess. Now her only options were to cooperate with Bartholomeus or shut him up for good.

How am I supposed to set him up with Ryn…? She isn’t even my contracted spirit…

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Monica, when Bartholomeus saw Felix’s cold reaction, it only cemented his suspicions once and for all.

…Also unbeknownst to Monica, the real trouble had yet to even begin.